Awake
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: He hears the thud first, sees the blood before he sees her. A great thick smear of it staining the wall and his heart plummets, Castle's shallow gasp barely making a sound as he stumbles forward. Set in and around Veritas. M for occasional language.


He hears the thud first, sees the blood before he sees her. A great thick smear of it staining the wall and his heart plummets, Castle's shallow gasp barely making a sound as he stumbles forward.

He crouches, not sure what to expect.

An attack?

The limp lifeless body of his fiancee?

Desolation? Heartbreak? The end of his own life?

What he finds is worse and better at the same time. Blood is running down the walls and pooling behind her head where it lays at a terrifying angle on the ground but, thank god, she's breathing.

Castle throws himself forwards, no longer caring what danger lurks for him when she's laying on the floor in pain.

She's rolling her neck, head flopping back and forth, dazed and out of it as he drops down at her side, the too large hoodie swallowing her up and making her seem tiny. His warrior detective in pieces at his feet and he doesn't know what the fuck happened here but he knows they need to _run_.

He needs to do what he's been trying to do since almost the moment they met, get her somewhere safe, keep her that way.

He gasps her name and falls to his knees, bringing her up against his chest and, shit, there is blood pouring from her head. It thickens and matts her hair and he takes a shallow breath, hoisting her up against him.

He's got a kid, he knows the deal, head wounds bleed like a bitch no matter the damage and he has to pray it seems worse than it is because he has no time to stop and apply pressure, assess the area and look for damage.

He has to act, has to _move_, has to get them both some place far away from here before she bleeds out, before whoever did this to her comes looking for them again.

Castle stands and breathes her name into her ear, her body light and pliant in his arms. Too light, and too malleable.

She inhales sharply when he takes his first step, and for a heartbreaking second he thinks she speaks his name, her fingers definitely tighten, and his heart rockets with relief.

She knows he's here.

Her head drops to his shoulder, fingers wrapping around him and he almost stumbles at the sudden increase in weight as, feeling safe because Castle has her in his arms, she gives in and passes out.

* * *

They make it to the car and he rolls her into the passenger seat, buckles her in and pushes her towards the driver's side so he can slam the door. Castle rushes through every action, time of the essence and he opens the trunk, grabs for a bag and almost curses the _existence_ that requires a fully equipped first aid kit, change of clothes and fake identities as your go to emergency items.

He almost curses it but he doesn't, not one second of his life with her is regrettable, not one moment will be cast into doubt and he will get her the hell out of here to safety, to freedom if it's the last conscious act he commits on this earth.

They will live the life they're supposed to have under any assumed name necessary.

He loves her.

There is no way they are going down like this.

When Castle is finally seated next to her he checks her head as best he can, drapes her in a towel and pushes her towards the passenger window.

She reeks of alcohol, whiskey so strong in the air that he chokes a breath when she breathes on him, gagging around the smell as it assails his nostrils, plummets down his gullet and turns his stomach.

What the _hell_ did they do to her?

He has no idea, but his fucked up imagination unleashes a whirlwind of scenarios and images that have him refusing to close his eyes and unable to tear himself away from her face, frightened and wondering which will be worse, what he sees before him or what he can imagine her going through.

She must have concussion, she's woozie and mumbling under her breath, but the blood at least is slowing and the small shards of glass he brushes out of her hair keep him vigilant, knowing any larger pieces embedded in her skull need to remain that way until he can get her to the nearest hospital.

He traces her face tenderly as she mumbles her mother's name, calls to him and mewls like she's heartbroken.

Maybe she is.

But he can't wait any longer.

They've already been here too long, too much wasted time in the parking lot and Castle fires up the engine, trying desperately not to tear out of the place, but frenzied in his need to put some distance between Kate and whatever, _whoever_ it is that is coming for her now.

* * *

She wakes with a gasp, grunting and wincing in pain as the cold water runs over her hair. Her eyes flash to his and she whimpers a pathetic sound that tears his heart from his chest and has him diving closer to press his lips to her forehead in apology.

But he doesn't stop.

She whimpers again when another splash of cold water tumbles down the back of her neck and ripples over her face, cold splashes sending goosebumps out across her skin.

She bites her lip, eyes wide, fingers digging into him.

"I'm so sorry." He breathes into her hairline, one hand cradling her face as he tries to assess the damage, the other wrapping around her shoulder and holding her to him.

They're about an hour outside of the city and it's not far enough, not anywhere near safe enough, but he just couldn't bring himself to drive any further without checking on her, without checking the wound. Without stemming the flow of blood that was making a steady path across the line of her throat as it fell from her forehead.

He presses harder and she jolts. "Hurts." She gasps and her fingers dig into his biceps, clawing up his arm as she tugs him closer, wrapping herself up in him, agony and loss shining in her too bright eyes.

She's awake and he hates himself for it, but he presses down again, keeps her that way, stems the creeping flow of blood and revels in the fact that she's alive.

His lips remain on her skin, light on her forehead as he whispers promises, not even sure of what he's saying to her but knowing he means every word, every damn syllable that demands she be strong for a few seconds longer, every breath that weaves over her body in silent truth, every time he swears that it will be over soon. He means it all and she nods, tilts her head to let him see, her weight falling into him as she gives in once again and lets him hold her up.

* * *

He cleans the wound and patches her skin as best he can, tears in his eyes every time she shudders, anger in his fists as they tenderly soothe away her pain yet want to rip apart the limbs of those who caused it.

She doesn't need stitches, he hopes, applying pressure when she's as clean as she's going to get without a shower or a hospital assessment. Lacerations weave through her hairline, small and large and Castle reminds himself over and over and over again that head wounds bleed a lot, that she has to be fine, that he will keep her safe.

He talks to her, checks she knows her name and age, who he is, where they are, that they're getting married and when she smiles at that his heart about gives up.

He's not sure he can take anymore.

He reminds himself again and again - she will be okay - in hope that the words will sink in and he will start to believe them, that maybe she will hear them as she lies, drifting slowly back towards unconsciousness, and somehow they will penetrate the fog deep enough that she will stay with him, come back to him.

He needs to move before she does though, get her as far away as possible and he tosses the stained towels and first aid kit into the backseat, wraps her up carefully and lays her back once more.

She's dreaming instantly and a list of names tumble from her lips a she settles in, the frown on her head less than it was before and Castle takes comfort in that.

He's done what he can for the moment and now he has to set about keeping her alive, and making sure she stays that way.

* * *

It doesn't work out quite as he plans.

* * *

"I really thought we were gonna make it." She mumbles, broken-hearted and blaming herself, her pain is visceral and vivid. She's tearing herself to shreds for so many reasons and he can see them all as clear as day in her beautiful, broken eyes.

They shine with unshed tears and he reads her face as clearly as if he were reading words from a page.

She blames herself for the life they won't have together, for dragging the boys with them, for what will happen to his family and hers when they are sent to prison.

For failing her mom when she was so close she could taste it.

For the wedding they'll never have.

He grabs her hands and does the only thing he can, knowing she takes comfort in his reassurance, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he would give up his life for her if need be, he makes another promise.

"Whatever happens!"

He kisses her, too short, too quick, the eyes of the world on them and her nails digging into his skin.

If it's over, it doesn't matter, he'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

* * *

When the tape cuts off she stands and holds out her hands, not a word spoken but an undeniable request for freedom written over every inch of her skin. In her stance and her demeanor, in her body language and the cut of her eyes, in the burning penetrating gaze of self-belief that she throws over everyone in the room.

She not only _requests_ it, she _demands_ it!

In the end it's Donovan who is forced to release her, reluctantly, still in shock he fumbles the key into the cuffs and takes the bindings from her wrists with narrowed eyes.

Kate turns for Castle slowly, taking his hand and the moment they share is tiny, but it's enough, their future right back where it should be, spread out before them. And when the moment's over and their eyes fall from each other he watches as Kate pulls in a deep breath - squeezing his fingers tight within her own - and sets about making plans to arrest the man who murdered her mother.

* * *

He watches her come down the steps, stubborn as ever - and right - this went down almost exactly as she seemed to expect and her eyes shine in the afternoon sun, the heavens overhead giving up radiant beams of golden light as justice is finally served.

She's magnificent and pride rolls from him in uncontrollable waves, his skin tight and alight with it, wanting to sweep her up and spin her around, wanting nothing more than to stand and watch as it all plays out.

He waits for her, lost in the way she handles herself, grateful she let him in, amazed she was strong enough to see this through, delighted they did it together as he always hoped they would.

She gives the bastard up easily to Espo, grit and sheer force of will having kept her going for so many years, yet she smiles as she finds her way back to his side.

"I never could have done this without you." She states, the truth in her statement brooking no arguments as she stares into his eyes and Castle smiles.

Her arms come up around him and hold on tight, the warmth of her body fitting perfectly with his own as she burrows herself into him and lets out a long slow breath.

It's a glorious sound of release that dances over his skin and he thinks she could have done it without him, she could take on the world if she wanted to, he firmly believes that, but they make each other better, stronger and he's so glad she chose to let him in all those years ago. So glad she wanted him by her side - pulling her pigtails and worming his way in - so they could be this for each other, so they could find justice for her mom, _together_.

* * *

Later, when it's over, when it's quiet and just the two of them, they sit side by side on the couch in her apartment, bone weary and content in silence.

She refuses to let him clean up, or call one of his guys to do it for them, the place has been ransacked and she tells him quietly not to bother, they won't be here long. She's giving it up, it's not home anymore.

Home is by his side, and his is with her, whether that's on the run or curled up at the loft by a warm fire and he yawns wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

"It's over. You should get some sleep, Castle." She breathes slowly, tracing his jaw with the tips of her fingers as they lean back, "You haven't slept for hours."

He grumbles his disagreement, "You haven't slept for days, Kate." Countering inanely as he yawns, pulls her closer.

She strokes his face, lulling him though he fights to stay awake, "I feel like I've been asleep for years," she hums, smile tranquil and at ease as his eyes start to close, "and now," she drops her head to his shoulder and sighs, "I'm awake, Castle. I'm finally awake."


End file.
